The Dedication
by madame.alexandra
Summary: in which Timothy McGee proposes to Kelly Gibbs. Also, when Timothy McGee learns way too much about his boss and his future father-in-law, and Levi finds out there are 3 more Star Wars movies. LB/SF tag! LBSF 'verse; manages to be weirdly Jibbs-ish even though it's about Kelly and McGee. T, though I'd call it K by my standards.


_A/N: Without a doubt the cutest/fluffiest thing I've ever written but I ain't even mad, ya'll. Kelly/McGee is like my OTP which is just bonkers-since it's, you know, not a thing. So here I am, back in this universe-which, let's face it, I never really want to leave-giving you the story of how Kelly Gibbs became Kelly McGee. And of course, offering you a few zingers from our favorite LBSF Jenny, as well._

_Timeline note: Jenny and Gibbs were married in July 2008. For the purposes of this tag, it's August 2008. _

* * *

Timothy McGee stood in his girlfriend's father's basement holding a beer, unsure if he was more intimidated by the impressive new woodwork project, the man himself—or, er, the beer. McGee wasn't really a beer drinker; he liked mixed drinks that were maybe a _little_ bit fruity—

"Want me to get you a _Flirtini_, McGee?" Leroy Jethro Gibbs growled at him, shooting him an annoyed glare as he took a swig of his own beer.

-okay, not _that_ fruity.

"No, sir."

"How many more times I got to tell you to stop callin' me '_sir'_?"

"Uhh," McGee paused, and squinted thoughtfully. "No more times?"

"Good answer."

Gibbs glared at the kid for good measure, secretly delighted to be making him so nervous. He folded his arms and leaned back against the counter, refusing to stop glaring at McGee until McGee decided to speak. Hell, he'd been dragged into his _own_ basement and offered one of _his_ beers—this had better be good.

"You better not waste that Corona," he threatened mildly, tipping his own up to his lips again.

McGee immediately took a large gulp of his beer and shook his head.

"You just gonna stare at me all night, McGee?" Gibbs demanded.

McGee furrowed his brow.

"No, I've got to meet Kelly at Levi's game," he answered. "I, uh, want to ask you—no, tell you—"

"You knock up my daughter, McGee?" Gibbs asked gruffly.

The choked noise that strangled McGee was worth it—and so was how red he turned and the petrified look in his eyes.

"_No_!" he denied, shaking his head vehemently. "No, I swear, Gibbs—we're not even, uh—"

"Yeah, I really believe _that_," snorted Gibbs narrowly, giving McGee a piercing look.

He may not want to know what his daughter was doing with men behind closed doors, but he wasn't dumb enough to think it wasn't happening. Levi was a glaring wake up call there, and that kid was _way_ too much of a punk to be any immaculately conceived Son of God.

McGee flushed red again, and Gibbs decided to ease up on him.

"I'm just bustin' your chops, Elf Lord," he said in a much more laid back tone. He smirked and took another drink of beer; it was fun to verbally torture his daughter's suitors, but he didn't have the energy to do it all night.

It wasn't as if he didn't have some inkling of what this was about anyway. After all, he'd been McGee before—anxious, half-mumbling, trying to get on the good side of his girl's father. He liked to think he didn't come off as pitifully _terrified_ as McGee did, but then again, Shannon's father had been a mid-mannered English professor, and Jenny's father was dead.

"McGee," Gibbs said bluntly. "Spit it out, son."

"I want to marry Kelly," McGee blurted out immediately. "I'm—I'm going to ask her to marry me."

Gibbs's expression didn't change; he wasn't surprised at all by McGee's declaration. His daughter was obviously and unabashedly committed to Timothy McGee, and Gibbs hadn't questioned that in a long time, no matter how much he didn't understand McGee's _weird_ love for online role playing games and jet packs and equations. It wasn't the thought of Kelly marrying McGee that put him out for a moment, it was the thought of her getting married at all; it was a foreign concept to him now.

Instead of dealing with boyfriends or fiancés through her young and reckless years, he'd been helping her raise Levi—and because of that upside down, first-came-the-baby scenario, he'd sort of forgotten that marriage might still be something she wanted.

Well, it obviously was something she wanted, he had seen the wedding fever in her eyes a few times already, and if that was the case, he was going to make damn sure McGee was everything she had a right _to—and_ he was going to make sure McGee deserved her.

"This have anything to do with her catching Jen's bouquet?" Gibbs growled skeptically, arching an eyebrow.

He didn't want Kelly getting married because of superstition or tradition—and he didn't like the idea of these two moving too quickly because a stupid bunch of pansies (he was still pissed that Jenny had _pansies_ as her choice flower because they _'reminded her of him'_) happened to land in her hands.

McGee gave Gibbs an indignant look.

"You mean the bouquet Jenny _deliberately chucked at Kelly's head_?" he retorted with surprising confidence.

Gibbs glared at him.

"Don't make accusations against my _wife_ in _my_ house," he growled.

McGee clamped his mouth shut, his brief episode of bravery subsiding into a grumble and a sip of beer.

"It's not because she _got hit_ with the bouquet," he said pointedly. He fidgeted for a minute and then looked at Gibbs seriously. "It's because I _want_ to marry her, Gibbs."

Gibbs cocked his head, nodding slowly.

"You two discussed this?" he asked.

McGee shrugged a little. He nodded, and didn't elaborate—no stuttering explanation or fumbling reasons. He just nodded affirmatively.

"What about Levi?" Gibbs prodded, narrowing his eyes.

He didn't want his grandson falling by the wayside in this; it was about time the boy had a proper father and if McGee didn't see that as part of the deal, if he wasn't prepared to step up to that plate—

"I want him, too," McGee said simply. "He's a great kid. And he's Kelly's kid."

"He'll be _your_ kid, if you marry her."

"He'll be ours, then."

"What about Pterodactyl?" Gibbs demanded.

"The _dog_?" asked McGee, faltering. He stared at Kelly's father, and then laughed—albeit a little nervously. "Gibbs, I want to marry her. I don't care _what_ comes with it."

"It means you have to deal with me for the rest of your life," threatened Gibbs ominously.

McGee gulped, and then he thought better of it, and shrugged.

"I work for Jenny. I think I can handle it," he said seriously.

Gibbs glared at him more menacingly. He was torn between being impressed that McGee was willing to take a lot of hazing for the next eternity and being irrationally pissed that literally _everyone_ seemed to find Jenny more terrifying than him. He was a trained sniper, for God's sake; she was just a cop with some fancy security clearance and sharp nails—_really_ sharp nails.

Gibbs unfolded is arms and held them out.

"What're you waiting for?" he asked.

"I, uh," McGee began, nervous again. "I—I thought I'd get your permission."

Gibbs raised an eyebrow, keeping eye contact for a minute and then shaking his head and snorting with laugher. He took another drink of beer, and then raised it pointedly in the young federal agent's direction.

"Look, McGee, I'm gonna tell you the same thing I did when you thought you'd _ask_ me to take her on a _date,_" he began pointedly, reminding McGee of that incredibly uncomfortable phone call. "She's got a kid. Hell, she's twenty-five years old—she doesn't need my permission to do anything."

Gibbs shrugged and pulled his arm closer to his chest.

"And you gotta ask her, man," he said. "It's _her_ answer that matters."

McGee frowned. He nodded, and then stepped forward, setting his beer on the counter and abandoning. _Dammit_, if the kid wasn't going to waste that perfectly good Corona—

"What I mean is…Kelly really respects you," he started frankly. "Your opinion means more than anything to her and, uh, it would devastate her if you didn't approve. She'd be really upset, and I—I don't like it when Kel's upset," he said seriously. "I want to go into it knowing you're cool with it."

"'_Cool'_ with it?" quoted Gibbs, narrowing his eyes.

"Your approval," McGee said. He had the nerve to roll his eyes. "I want your blessing, okay?"

Gibbs grit his teeth, silently pleased to find out Kelly was so concerned about him being proud of her choices. He should probably tell her more often that he was; he certainly hadn't done it enough since Levi was born. She deserved to know. She deserved to be happy, and if this was any indication of the kind of respect McGee would afford her, Gibbs had almost no hesitation giving his blessing.

Almost. She was still his only child, _his_ little girl, and really the only that that had held him together after he lost Shannon—and until Jenny.

Gibbs set his beer aside and pulled a stool up. He sat down and leaned forward on his knees, his knuckles resting at his chin for a moment.

"You love her?" he asked gruffly.

"I love her so much," McGee swore earnestly. "I mean it, Gibbs, if you said I could only have her if I never touched a video game again, I'd take her. Without blinking."

Gibbs glared at him for the stupid video game reference—and a little bit for how shmucky he sounded with the sappy nonsense. He could save _that_ for Kelly. Then again, if Kelly were anything like her mother, she'd laugh her ass off within the first few clichéd words.

Gibbs rubbed his jaw and looked up at McGee, narrowing his eyes intently.

"You gonna take care of my girl, Tim?" he asked seriously, any hint of mockery gone from his voice; he was completely serious. He wanted some indication that he'd never have to hunt Timothy McGee down with a baseball bat and pulverize him.

McGee smiled.

"With all due respect, Gibbs, I don't think Kelly needs to be taken care of," he said honestly, and shrugged his shoulders. "But I figure I'd benefit from her taking care of me."

Impressed with the answer, Gibbs straightened up. He nodded curtly, and extended his hand, shaking McGee's hand firmly—and he had no doubts about Kelly marrying this man.

"Go ask her."

* * *

McGee darted into the elevator after his boss and managed to stumble in haphazardly just as the doors were sliding closed. He grinned triumphantly and straightened his tie while he caught his breath, and his antics earned him a long, patronizing glare from the redhead he'd just chased down.

"Training for the Inter-Agency Olympics, McGee?" Jenny Gibbs, nee Shepard, asked sarcastically.

"What? No—Inter-Agency Olympics, is that a real thing?"

He got another long, patronizing glare.

"Er, right," he muttered. Obviously she was kidding. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

"No."

McGee gulped, startled. He turned and faced the elevator buttons uncertainly, frowning a little. He'd been positive she'd been in a good mood all day; DiNozzo had made three case breakthroughs and Kelly had broken a suspect. Sure, she was here late with him working on a cyber code, but that was going well so—

"You aren't going to give up that easily, are you?" she prodded, turning and raising a nearly arched brow at him. She clicked her tongue and pursed her lips.

"Uh, no?"

"Good answer."

McGee cleared his throat, and the elevator stopped at the ground floor.

"Can I talk to you for a minute?" he tried again.

He followed her off the elevator and then out of the lobby into the hot August air. It was still daylight out and with the sun lingering, still sweltering. He made a face; she stopped a few steps out of the door, turning towards him. _He_ stopped abruptly to keep from stumbling over her.

"You literally have sixty seconds," she said.

"But it might take longer—"

"Fifty-five."

"Boss, c'mon-!"

"Seriously, McGee, every second you waste is a second I'm not having sex with my husband."

McGee winced and stopped talking altogether, staring at her with his mouth open. She stared right back at him and then slowly tilted her head and compressed her lips matter-of-factly and popped them right back open:

"Thirty. Twenty-nine. Twenty-eight—"

"I'm proposing to Kelly and I need to know if you're going to fire me," McGee interrupted, shouting over her obnoxious count down.

Jenny blinked at him.

"Do you want to yell that a little more loudly? I'm not sure she heard you," she said dryly, giving him a softer look. She put a hand on her hip and glanced towards the building, looking around thoughtfully.

"Uh, Boss, how many—"

She held up a hand to stop him. The white gold band of her engagement ring sparkled at him.

"I've tacked on an exponential amount of time to your original one-minute limit," she informed him, still looking away pensively. She pursed her lips and squinted her eyes in the sun as if trying to see something. Abruptly, she looked back at him and lowered her hand.

She furrowed her brow a bit.

"You need to know if I'm going to _fire_ you?" she quoted, her voice going up skeptically.

"Well yeah," McGee mumbled. "Because of the rules."

"What rules?" she feigned ignorance.

"The never date a co-worker rule," McGee said reluctantly.

"The one you have literally been breaking since Kelly Gibbs joined my team?" Jenny asked, deadpan. "That one? Is that the rule you're talking about?"

McGee mustered the courage to glare at her.

"It's kind of hard for you to turn a blind eye to a diamond ring," he pointed out seriously.

Jenny sighed.

"True," she acquiesced, and held up her hand to look at her own. She flipped her palm and fluttered her fingers at him. "Especially if it's as fabulous, shiny, and expensive as mine is," she gloated smugly. Her green eyes glinted impishly. "Is it?"

McGee gently pushed her hand down, giving her a look. She'd see what he picked out soon enough, and in the meantime—

"Jenny, I'm serious," he said firmly.

She considered him for a moment.

"Have you talked to the Duke about this?" she asked curiously.

"I have—the Duke?" McGee interrupted himself mid-sentence, confused. He wasn't used to hearing Gibbs called by…random, pop culture referential nicknames.

"That's what I call him on Thursdays."

"Uh, just Thursdays?"

"Thursday is reverse Cowgirl sex day," Jenny retorted bluntly.

McGee turned an amusing shade of magenta and she grinned. He closed his eyes tightly and shook his head, waving his hand at her.

"Forget I asked," he mumbled, making a face. He opened his eyes cautiously after a moment and, apparently deciding it was safe for him to talk without having his prudish side scandalized, continued: "I talked to him a couple days ago."

Jenny nodded, her eyes still searching his intently.

"What exactly are you asking me, Tim?" she asked seriously.

"I'm asking if you're okay with us working together once we're married."

"And if I'm not?" Jenny queried curtly.

He looked like he hadn't been expecting her to say that, but he shrugged, and swallowed bracingly.

"I'm still going to marry her."

"What if I say I'll fire you if you do, McGee?"

"I'll find another job," he answered edgily, but he looked more than a little pissed off.

She let him glare at her for a spilt second, and then she smirked, nodding her head approvingly.

"That was a test, Agent McGee," she said smoothly. "You passed."

"I—uh, a test?" he stammered, the pissed look melting instantly into bafflement.

"I wouldn't want Kelly to marry a man who'd let his _boss_ stand in the way of his life with her," she informed him simply.

McGee frowned, and then he grinned, straightening up a little.

"So, you're okay with it?"

Jenny shrugged.

"The two of you are adults. It's been done before. I wouldn't recommend you continue to work on the same team, but I won't terminate either of you—on the condition all talk of china patters, flowers, and caterers stays _out_ of the bullpen."

McGee nodded eagerly. He figured it was best not to remind Jenny that when it had been _her_ wedding, they'd all been forced to look at a slideshow of flower arrangements and give their opinions on several weird cake flavors before she'd revealed that she'd just wanted them all to try cake with roasted peppers in it and see their faces.

He realized she was glaring at him.

"McGee, can I go now?" she asked. "It's been upwards of four minutes."

"Oh, yeah, um—"

He realized he was standing directly in her way and nearly tripped over his feet moving.

"I shall try to forget that this fluffy little conversation is what kept my horse—sorry, _husband_—waiting," she said wryly, shooting him a wicked smile.

He winced again, covering his face with his hands as she walked away.

His Thanksgiving holidays were going to be _real_ interesting.

* * *

Levi Michael Gibbs dropped the video game controller in his hands and scampered away from the high tech display of screens and consuls he was entertaining himself with. He bounded into the kitchen and hopped at a flying leap into one of the chairs at the dining table.

"Whoa, slow it down, bud," McGee warned lightly. "You want me to have to explain stitches to your mom?"

Levi grinned at McGee and shook his head.

"Pizza!" he cried voraciously, sitting up on his knees in the chair and rubbing his hands together. He took a deep breath as McGee set the giant box on the table in front of him and handed him a paper plate.

McGee opened the pizza box and waved his hand over it. Levi darted his hand out to dig in, and McGee grabbed it.

"I don't wanna explain burns, either," he warned.

Levi rolled his eyes, but took his hand back, waiting, but still wiggling around excitedly.

"Timmy," he said. "I got to the part of the game where Darth Maul is comin' at Obi Wan and Qui Gon and I gotta fight him off but Timmy he has _two_ lightsabers in one it's so _cool_!"

"You gotta watch out for those double ended lightsabers, man," McGee said seriously. "They'll getcha out of _nowhere_."

"I _know_," agreed Levi seriously. "Like they got Qui Gon. I didn't like that."

"Yeah, me neither," McGee said. "He was cool. Hey, later we can watch one of the old Star Wars. There aren't any creepy double-edged lighsabers in _those_."

"What's old ones, Tim?" asked Levi, bouncing his chair again as McGee put two smaller pieces of pizza on his plate.

"You know, the originals!" McGee said. "With Princess Leia and Luke Skywalker and Han Solo." Levi stared at him blankly, momentarily distracted from the pizza. "Chewy?" tried McGee.

Nothing.

"Okay, this we _are_ talking to your mom about," he said seriously.

It was a good thing he was going to marry Kelly, because it was going to take to-death-did-they-part for him to fix the damage she'd inflicted by only showing him the _new_ Star Wars movies.

"C'n I 'ave 'oda?" Levi asked through a huge mouthful of pizza.

"No way," McGee said. "You've been _wired_ since me 'n' Tony let you have that slushy earlier."

Levi glared at McGee menacingly, and McGee laughed.

"Apple juice is a good compromise, right?" he asked, getting up to get it.

"S'long's it'snot milk!" Levi snorted.

"Chew your food, kid," McGee ordered.

Levi chomped down on another ridiculous bit of pizza and obeyed, nodding in thanks to McGee when he set a cup of apple juice in front of him. He decided to drink the same thing so Levi wouldn't make a big deal out of not getting any soda.

"Hey, Tim," Levi said after swallowing and then gulping down some apple juice. "Wanna play catch after pizza?"

"Aw, I would, bud, but my sister took her gloves and ball back with her to college," he said apologetically.

Levi crinkled his nose.

"Ugh, _Sarah_," he scoffed, and McGee smirked. Levi tilted his head back and forth good-naturedly. "S'fine Tim, I can play with Gunny tomorrow," he said, moving right on to the next thing. "C'n I play Pokemons on your Gameboy?" he asked next.

"You can do that. Or I can teach you how to play with the cards."

"Whoa, no way!" shouted Levi, his eyes going wide as saucers. "Nu-uh, you got cards? Tim my friend Zach has cards! They're cuh-lec-ter's!" he said excitedly.

"Bet I have more than Zach," McGee said proudly. He made sure Levi wasn't making too huge of a mess with his pizza, and settled in to eating his own.

Kelly was gone for the weekend with a few of her old friends from high school. She had originally asked her father and Jenny to watch Levi, but as the time for the trip neared, she'd changed her mind and decided to let McGee do it. Other times she'd been concerned that Levi might then confuse the situation or not regard McGee as an authority figure, but things had gotten a lot different lately.

And Levi and McGee _really_ got along.

"So, Levi," McGee began seriously. "I have to run something by you. Man to man," he said.

Levi tilted his head and stared at McGee, raising his eyebrows in an amusing, suspicious manner.

"Am I in trouble?" he asked warily.

"Nope," answered McGee, shaking his head.

Levi took a sip of apple juice and pointed a thumb up at McGee, nodding expectantly. McGee grinned, entertained, and nodded right back, giving the kid a thumb up right back.

"I like your mom a lot."

Levi crinkled his nose. He squinted his eyes at McGee.

"Mommy likes you too," he said, making a face. He shot McGee a look. "Blech," he informed him seriously.

"Oh, she _does_ like me?" McGee asked, feigning surprise.

"Uh _duh_, that's why you got to come to Christmas," Levi answered, in a tone that clearly stated that was _obvious_ to _everyone_.

McGee smiled.

"Good," he said.

He leaned forward on the table and looked the five-year-old in the eye.

"Levi, how would you feel if your Mom and I got married?" he asked.

Levi gave him a skeptical look and bit off a piece of pizza.

"Mommy didn't say she was marryin' you," he told McGee suspiciously, his words muffled in crust and chest and pepperoni.

"I haven't asked her yet," McGee explained. "What would you think if I did?"

"Does Mommy say yes?" Levi asked perceptively, giving McGee a hysterical sort of _'so in this _alleged_ scenario, what does Mommy do?'_ face.

"I want her to," McGee answered.

Levi chewed. He ate some more pizza.

"Married like Jenny and Gunny?" he asked through another mouthful. He suddenly got a horrified look on his face. "Do I gotta wear another dumb suit?" he demanded.

McGee laughed.

"Tell you what, if this works out, I'll talk Kelly into letting you wear jeans and a nice shirt instead of all that stuffy junk," he offered.

"Tha's a bribe," Levi retorted matter-of-factly.

"Is it working?"

Levi shrugged. He washed down some pizza with his apple juice and then tore his crust in half to munch on it better. He leaned back, slouching in the chair, and gnawed on the crust in a dinosaur-ish manner.

"So you love Mommy?" he asked after a minute.

"Yep, sure do," McGee answered.

Levi nodded, and went back to eating his crust. He flicked his eyes down thoughtfully and tilted his head back in fort in a bit of a dance again. He glared at McGee over the food in his hand and cleared his throat.

"What 'bout me?" he asked quietly.

"What?" McGee asked.

"If you 'n' Mommy get married, what 'bout me?" he asked uncertainly. "Do I get to be married to you with Mommy? 'Cause the other kids' mommies and daddies got kids after they was married."

McGee thought about it for a minute, keeping his eyes on Levi intently. He had to discuss all the particulars with Kelly, of course, but he fully intended to adopt Levi when he married Kelly—and as soon as possible. That wasn't something he could bring up to the kid, though, so he searched for something comforting to say.

"It doesn't _always_ work that way," he said with a light shrug. "Sometimes people get kids after they get married. I was thinking I'd ask your mom to marry me, and she'd say yes, and you and she would be my family," he paused, "Pterodactyl, too," he added as an afterthought.

Levi stopped chewing. He sat up and put the crust down and reached for his apple juice for a drink—through which he doggedly stared at McGee over the rim of his glass until he'd downed the rest of it.

"Tim?" he said seriously.

"Yeah?"

"If you marry Mommy, can I call you Dad?"

McGee couldn't help but grin.

"We'll have to talk to Mom about that," he said. "But I want you to."

Levi's face lit up triumphantly. He gave McGee another thumbs up and then stood up in his chair and put his hands on the table with raised eyebrows.

"Can I pick the ring?" he asked.

"Uh, I already got it," McGee said. "But you want to see it? Tell me if Kelly'll like it?" he asked, standing up.

Levi hopped off the chair in front of McGee and hugged him tightly. McGee ruffled his hair, and then crouched down and gave him a bigger hug on his level. He leapt back after a moment, smirking from ear to ear—a smirk that had _I am the grandson of Leroy Jethro Gibbs written _all over it.

"Now Mommy's in charge of _you_ too, Timmy Dad!"

* * *

Kelly arrived at his apartment exactly a minute or two after she said she would—like she always did—and let herself in with her key. She flashed him a smile and waved at him with the DVD in her hand.

"Hey," she greeted languidly, shutting the door behind her and looking over to the counter with interest. Her eyes lit up and she darted to the counter, laying the DVD and her keys down. "Oh my god, are these Penny's apple pie cupcakes?" she asked hopefully.

"Yep," McGee answered her.

Kelly swiped some icing off of one and sucked it off her finger, savoring the taste.

McGee smirked to himself smugly. He knew what he was doing. For once in his life, Timothy McGee was not nervous, intimidated, insecure, or uncertain because he knew this was _right. _

"Tim, your grandmother is _seriously_ the only feminist I know who is such an amazing cook," Kelly said, stealing some more icing.

McGee pulled a bottle of wine out of the chilled bucket on his counter and she laughed, tapping her nail on the DVD she'd brought.

"Cupcakes, wine, and a movie? Gosh, Tim, you sure are keepin' me young," she teased. "Making me feel like a coed again."

He handed her a wine glass and glared at the movie she'd brought over. He'd only agreed to watch _Sex and the City_ with her because she'd given him some long sob story about how it was a culmination of her teenage years—apparently the TV show had gotten her through high school (behind her father's back) when it came to woman-ish things. That, and he was sure she wouldn't be so interested in the movie later.

Kelly poured her own glass of wine and watched him pour his, still standing and stealing licks of icing. It was a habit of hers and he liked it; she sat around and picked all the icing off things before devouring the cake. She looked up at him with her index finger between her teeth and smiled good-naturedly, her blue eyes sparkling.

"We aren't going to watch the movie, are we?" she asked wryly, wiggling her eyebrows. "Watching a movie is the new _come up and have coffee_, isn't it?"

McGee shrugged and corked the wine again, putting it back into the bucket and leaning against the counter.

"The final edit of my manuscript came today," he said.

She widened her eyes and put her hands flat on the counter and jumped a little.

"Tim, that's _awesome_!" she complimented sincerely. "Is the release date official yet?" she asked.

He nodded.

"Almost set in stone," he said. "Pending my approval of the final design," he added, and swirled his wine around in his glass. He took a drink and then shrugged at her. "Go take a look; it's in there by the typewriter," he said.

Kelly took a drink of her wine and nodded.

"The cover design and all?" she asked.

"The dedication, and the disclaimer I added," McGee said with a snort. "Telling everyone that, while inspired by true events, yadda yadda…" he trailed off.

"Right," Kelly laughed, "because Jenny would have murdered you if you hadn't put that in, because of chapter seven—"

McGee glared at her and Kelly broke off, giggling into her wine glass.

"Just go check it out," he requested. "I'll set the DVD up while you're in there."

"Yessir, Mr. Gemcity," she said, saluting him.

Kelly wandered off through the gaming area and around his bookshelf, disappearing into the alcove where his typewriter and writing materials were kept. He picked up the DVD and examined the cover, waiting.

He slipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out the classic black Harry Winston box.

He knew exactly how long it should take her to read it.

* * *

Kelly sat down in the antique chair that went with Tim's classic roll top desk and his prized vintage typewriter. She leaned back and crossed her legs, setting her wine glass down and picking up the brown packaged that was open and lying on top of some used, ink-blotted paper. She tilted the packaging and let the almost-official hardback copy of his book fall into her lap.

The cover was white with a sort of silvery-grey fog steaming it up; there was a bloody, fuzzy handprint behind the bold iridescent lettering that declared the title—_**Deep Six**_—and then, there at the bottom in letters just as bold an unforgettable, was his pen name: Thom E. Gemcity.

She giggled and picked up her wine again, taking a sip as she opened the book and flipped through the first few pages to the infamous disclaimer.

_Though the events and people in this novel are based in reality, nothing depicted is entirely true to fact…_

-and on went the humorous disclaimer that Jenny had made McGee swear, on pain of death, would be included in the book.

She shook her head in amusement at Tim's talent and flipped back a page, thumbing through the blank pages to find the dedication. DiNozzo had been pestering McGee for the past month to know whom the dedication was to, and Kelly had kept it secret that she was more than a _little_ curious.

She found it on the page after the copyright information, and tilted her head, lifting her wine to her lips to read.

And then her heard stuttered to a stop against her ribs.

It read:

-_To my wife, who isn't in this book because I don't want to share her with the world, who was the first to read this novel in its entirety, who knows I'm better at the written word than the spoken, to whom I am dedicated, and who's reading this confused right now, because I still have to ask—_

_ Kelly, will you marry me?  
__I'm standing in the doorway with the ring._

Kelly looked up, blinking heavily, and she jumped, her hand flying to her heart, when she saw Tim standing in the doorway watching her, one hand in his pocket. He caught her eye and pulled his hand out, crossing the room towards her. He sat on the edge of the desk next to the typewriter and opened the box on his knee.

She looked down at the ring and gasped, and then quickly put her wine down and covering her face with her hands, the book still open in her lap. She mumbled something incoherently into her fingers and then lowered her hands and wrapped hear arms around her shoulders.

She bit her lip and tilted her head up, dragging her eyes away from the diamond that was so overwhelming she knew it would probably cost him his entire first royalty check and at the same time so _perfect_ she couldn't breathe.

"Tim," she said shakily.

Her hair framed her face perfectly and he grinned like a fool and reached for her left hand, raising his eyebrows.

"Well, Kelly?" he asked quietly. "Will you?" he squeezed her hand tightly. "I already asked Levi."

Her lower lip trembled and she closed her eyes, lashes quivering, and then she lunged forward and grabbed a quill off his desk, dipping it messily in ink and bending over the copy of his book. In loopy, feminine handwriting, she scrawled:

_Yes!_

-and signed her initials, and then tossed both the book and the quill onto his desk and stood up. She leaned forward and kissed him, her hands resting on his knees, and he smirked, fumbling around to get the ring out and slip it on to her finger. It fit perfectly; he'd found out her size from Kate.

"Is that part of the book?" she asked breathlessly, breaking away and lifting her hand up to look. She held it to the light and then pressed her hand against his shoulder, admiring the ring there. "Is that going to be published, too?"

He nodded.

"If you're okay with it," he said earnestly. "I'd like to leave your answer in there, also," he added. "If you don't mind."

"Are you kidding?" she asked, her eyes lighting up. "You're about to hit the shelves as the hottest new author out there and everyone's going to know you're _mine_."

He beamed at her, and she threw her arms around him, hugging him tightly, her face buried in his neck, hands gripping his shoulder. She mumbled something incoherently into his shoulder and laughed. She tried to hide it, but she was crying a little, too. She pulled back suddenly.

"Levi?" she asked, her brows going up. "You said you talked to Levi?"

"Well, I had to make sure he approved," Tim said seriously. "Had to let him know I wanted him too."

Her lashes and lips shook again and tears spilled down her cheeks, falling into the dimples left by her shining smile.

"I love you so much, Tim," she said, touching his face gently. She bit her lip and shook her head in wonder. "I don't know how I got so damn lucky."

He didn't know how to tell her that he was the lucky one, so he just kissed her again, and hugged her again. She laughed happily, and then pulled back, her face lighting up again. She grabbed his hand tightly and jumped, grabbing the book.

"I've got to tell Dad," she said, her eye catching the ring and lingering there. "I've got to show this proposal to Jenny, she'll die," Kelly exclaimed. She tugged on Tim's hand. "Come on, we can get to the, ah, _movie_, later," she added suggestively.

He stood up to follow her and then sat back down suddenly, his eyes going wide. He shook his head.

"We can't go over there," he said ominously.

There was nothing that could wipe the happiness from her face, so she laughed in shock at his reaction and pursed her lips curiously.

"What? They won't mind. I can stop by Abby's on the way home and show Levisaurus," she said earnestly.

"No, we can't," McGee insisted.

Kelly arched a brow at him skeptically.

"It's Thursday," he said, planting his feet and refusing to be dragged even one step nearer to the home of Leroy Jethro and Jenny Gibbs.

Kelly furrowed her brow.

"What's bad about Thursday?" she asked breathlessly.

"Kelly, do you know what your Dad and Jenny call _Thursdays_?"

She wasn't listening though, her eyes were on the diamond ring, splayed over the proposal in the dedication of his book—and he melted at the sight, and decided if she wanted to go tell her Dad now, they would.

But he was _definitely_ calling first.

* * *

_I mean, I'll probably do a Christmas one about Levi getting adopted or something, but how knows. I shouldn't make promises. I have, er, other things to write. Actually wait-I think Mateaam asked me for angst next, after I posted 'X-Marks the Spot. Guess I owe her that?  
_

_Good luck being not dead after Hurricane Sandy, fellow east coasters. _

_-Alexandra  
story# 96_


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